Class Differences (Part 4)

It had been about two weeks since our last swim lesson, the one where I found myself completely naked in front of all of my classmates in the pool, and again in the classroom, right in front of the teacher. This had given all the students the green light to be more daring to see what they could get away with doing to me, whereas they were more conservative before. I had students that would occasionally smack my ass. Once, I was walking back to my desk and this guy who's desk I was walking pat suddenly slapped me on ass so hard in made a loud cracking sound. This caught the teacher's attention, but by the time he looked at my direction the guy had pulled his hand away, and the Mr. Manning glared at me as though I had done it! He must have thought I was some weirdo trying to disrupt his class. The only good thing to come out of the incident was that the students were beginning to be more friendly with me. When they weren't teasing me, they were saying hello to me in the hallways and asking me how I was doing. It felt nice to be seen. I guess it took being "seen" to be seen. The only thing I didn't like about it was that they have committed to calling me "Dick Thatcher". I didn't want to be ungrateful, so I didn't dare correct them or complain.

Anyways, today was our art class. Since I couldn't afford even a decent swimsuit of my own for swimming, I obviously couldn't afford proper art supplies. However, reminded of my situation in class a few weeks earlier, Mr. Manning offered a solution.

"Since you don't have the supplies to paint, and the other students can't share, since they can't afford to risk running out, would you consider being today's model?" he asked.

I was shocked that he asked me, but not being any other alternative, although I suppose I didn't really ask if there was one either, I agreed.

"Alright class, today Dick, here is going to be our model."

I saw grins on the students' faces.

"Now," Mr. Manning continued, "everyone get your supplies and get seated quickly, we have limited time and you need to finish your work this period. Once Dick strips down I will set a timer for you all and we can begin the nude modeling."

"What!?" I said. No one had said anything about nude modeling. "Nude?"

"Dick, don't be prudish. Nudity has been an important part of art, and if you paid attention in history you would know that. Besides, with your little display a few weeks ago, I wouldn't think you would be shy about your body."

"What?... prudish... I do pay attention... that wasn't intentional..." I stammered.

"Enough. We don't have time to waste."

I had already agreed to do the modeling. So, not wanting to hold up the class because I didn't think this through, I found myself stripping fully naked in front of my classmates, teacher included, once more. Like, Mr.Manning said, I had been in this situation before, which helped me remain at least somewhat calm. I walked to the back of the room and took off my shoddy shirt, tiny shorts, and slippers. I don't think I will ever get used to just how little cloth made up the uniform I was made to wear every single day. I place my small pile of clothes on the table in the back, and walked past my classmates, who sat at their easels staring, to the small platform about a foot tall with when I stepped up onto and turned around to face my audience.

I knew there was no point in covering, so my hands remained at my sides. They were in a circle around me. Some would be drawing me from the front, some from the sides, and some from the back. I would be documented from the neck down from every angle possible.

"Alright," said Mr. Manning, "now which pose do we want?"

"How about kneeling?" asked Marcus.

"Dick, could you get down on your knees for us."

They had me try out several positions: on my hands and knees with my ass out, upright on my knees with one hand on my shoulder, even sat down with my legs spread out displaying my crotch to everyone. But they decided that none of those was good enough, probably because they concealed to much, and decided that a they would rather have a standing post after all, which meant that I just did all of the poses for nothing. Once I was tanning again they suggested whaat to do with my arms. I could put them up locking my fingers behind my head, or I could cross them in front of my chest. Finally, we settled on a standing up pose with my hands on my hips. After that everyone began working away.

From the center room I could see everyone, and everyone could see me. All thirty or so of them. Marcus, the one who pulled my pants down in front of everyone, first exposing my crotch to all of my classmates, which I was now willingly displaying along with everyone else, he was sitting off in the corner, one of the farthest students from me. He hadn't actually directly interacted with me since that incident in the library. Max and his two friends were sitting together, all with stern looking faces as their eyes focused hard on my body, trying to capture the details get the proportions right.

Sarah and Stella and the other girls were sitting together, but they weren't painting. They had instead chosen sculpting as their art project. They probably all signed up for it so that they could do something together as a group, just them girls. They were all sitting at a table which was a little farther than Max and Co., but closer than Marcus.

After about half of the drawing period had gone by, I was allowed to stop and take a break, which was good because my back was getting tired from trying to maintain such good posture. I was allowed to take a seat in the corner. It made sense that wasn't allowed to put my clothes on, because I would have to take them back off in a few minutes, but I wasn't even given a towel or robe to wear, so I just sat in that seat naked with my legs crossed. It didn't take long until I was bothered. The girls came up to me.

"Hey Dick," said Sarah.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," one of the girl said. The girls giggled at this.

"It's really cool that you are modeling for us."

"Yeah, you are really brave."

"Thanks," I said. The positive reinforcement was nice to hear.

"Can we ask you something?"

"Sure," I said.

"Could we get a closer look at you? You know, for our sculptures?"

"Well, I guess," I said.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble."

"It's alright. Step back," I said.

I uncrossed my legs and stood up. They looked me up and down, walking around me in circles, some of them crouching down to see me from the waist down.

"Can we, like, touch?"

"I don't really think that's a good idea," I said.

"Please."

"Yeah, it would really help with our sculptures if we could feel the real thing."

"I just, I mean, I don't think that's really, like, allowed."

"We could ask."

"I'll do it."

"I'll go with you."

Two of them walked over to Mr. Manning. I could see them explaining to him and pointing over at me. He nodded in understanding, but with a peculiar look on his face. I could see that he was arguing with them, but it seems like they won him over because he gave a thumbs up over to us. The two girls came back.

"He said if you are offering to let us touch you then it's okay."

"Yeah."

"He said that?" I asked. "What exactly did you ask him?"

"We told him that you offered to let us touch you o we could get a better feel for our sculptures."

"Why did you tell him that? I didn't offer, you asked."

"What difference does it make?"

"Are you going to let us do it or not?"

I didn't want them to feel me up, because I remembered what happened the last time they did that. But I also didn't want them to say no after they went through the effort of asking the teacher. Besides it was going to help with their art.

"I guess."

"Okay then."

"Alright."

Suddenly they swarmed me with their hands. I could feel them touching me everywhere. There were hands on my ass, my nipples, my chest, my stomach, my arms, my legs, my back, and my shoulders. They even pulled my ass cheeks open and saw my asshole.

"Wow, you have a really, clean asshole," one of them said, which was by far the strangest complaint that I had ever received in my entire life. But it was a compliment, and I didn't want to be rude by not accepting it.

"Thanks," I said.

This attracted some attention from the other classmates, and some of them walked over, watching me get felt up by five girls.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"We are trying to get a feel for our sculptures."

"Yeah."

One of the girls that wasn't apart of the group asked if she was allowed to touch me, not strictly implying that she wanted to, but asking if she was allowed to. They told her no.

"You're not sculpting."

The girl seemed a little disappointed. Everyone else was smiling, having a good time watching them play with me.

They left my cock and balls for last. My cock was already extremely hardly that point, but if it wasn't I would definitely have gotten erect from their cradling of my ballsack, and their blatant stroking of my penis. "It was to get a good feel of my foreskin," they said. Only a few could touch my cock at a time, so they took turns while the rest kept touching the rest of me. I started feeling good, like, really good, like that good that you feel when you are going to come, but not quite yet. If they kept this up for another minute I was going to near an orgasm.

But it didn't last mother minute, because before that could happen Mr. Manning told the girls to get their hands off me and for everyone to setback into their locations, including me. I stood back on the platform with a raging hard on.

"Mr. Manning?" said Max.

"Yes Max, what is it?"

"There might be a slight issue."

Mr. Manning looked at me and saw my swollen penis.

"Well, just draw Dick's penis while it is erect."

"What if you already drew it when it was... whatever it's called... impotent?" asked one of the girls who was drawing.

There was a giggle at that.

"Flaccid," one of the boys corrected her.

"If you already drew his penis flaccid, then keep it and draw the rest of him," said Mr. Manning. "The rest of you draw him like he is now."

We continued like that for a while, until there was another complaint.

"Ugh, I just can't get a good sense of depth."

"Yeah, me neither."

"Can't we just measure his penis?"

Mr. Manning didn't even ask me for my permission before he agreed, pulling a ruler out of the drawer and handing it to me. He ordered me to hold it next to my cock and had out the measurement. I murmured the answer, even though I already knew it.

"Louder please," Mr. Manning.

"Seven inches," I said, perhaps a little too loudly.

"No way," I heard.

"I don't believe it."

"I don't know, it looks seven inches to me."

Mr. Manning heard the objections over the size of my penis and walked up right next to me on the platform demanding I hold up the ruler again. He confirmed for all of the class that my penis was in fact seven inches, give or take a few millimeters.

And with that we returned to my nude modeling session. That was, until another interruption took place, this time coming from me. Now, you would think that a with all of the attention I was getting that this wouldn't happen, but when you are standing up there for so long you start to space out and you start thinking about other things. My mind started wandering and it was Max who once again pointed out that a there was a problem.

"Dick Thatcher, come down here," Mr. Manning told me, as he gestured me to the back corner, opposite from the one I was sitting in before. He told me that he needed me to make myself presentable again. Unfortunately, I knew exactly what he meant. Facing away from everyone, even though they all knew what I was doing, I took my cock into my hand. and started jerking it. I told Mr. Manning I was ready I he told me to stand back up in front of everyone.

From then I tried my best to keep thinking dirty thoughts. I succeeded in keeping myself aroused so that all of my classmates could capture it in their art. Finally, with a few minutes left, Mr. Manning announced that everyone should finish up their final touches and when the bell finally rang he told them to return to the class. He told me that I could take a few minutes to compose myself and get dressed, and when I was done I could join them in the classroom.

I found myself alone once more following an incident where I embarrassed myself in front of everyone. With the door closed I actually choose not to get dressed immediately, partially because I knew that with my tiny clothes it wouldn't feel like much of a difference. At first I just sat there with my butt on the elevated platform and my feet on the ground. After that I stood up and walked around the room, still naked, and looked at my fellow classmates artwork. I have to admit, my personal feelings about the experience aside, there was some real talent among them. I could see that they had made good use of depth to capture the shapeliness of my ass, with it being ever so slightly plumper than most despite my thin physique. They followed the curve around the sides as it led around the outside of my cheeks and feed into my crack, and then followed through to the bottom which had that slight sagging look emblematic of the male derrière. And this was not to mention the detail with which they captured my ribs or my neck, which was where they all stopped. The drawings made me felt a little better about my body, which was much needed after that shame I was feeling just a few minutes ago. I realized thatI should be going so I quickly changed into my clothes and left to catch with up with my class.

The next day I walked into the school and on my way to my room I saw that they had put up some art that nearly made my heart stop. They were the drawings from the day before. My nudes. Granted, nobody knew it was me because my face wasn't one them. But they had captured every angle of my body with such great detail that now every student in the school knew what my naked body looked like. They had the image of my penis, both erect and flaccid, in their minds. I could see that the drawings were next to the display case, which sometimes help trophies for clubs or sports, but it now held the statues. The clay molded by the same hands that touched my body all over. And they had done an excellent job as well.

"Great work, huh?"

I jumped.

"Sorry," the student standing next to me said. I didn't recognize him. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's alright," I said.

"Pretty good drawings, right?"

"Yeah, really great work."

"I don't know how anybody could do that though. Stand in front of people naked, studying every inch of your body."

"Well, you know," I said. "I've been told that nudity has always been apart of art."

"That's true," he said. "Would you do it?" he asked me, jokingly of course.

"Me?" I said. "I could never imagine myself in that situation.”